


Hook and Line

by weytani



Series: Anything Goes [2]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2732756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weytani/pseuds/weytani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Sameen, this is the only kind of high school party worth attending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hook and Line

**Author's Note:**

> it's a very tentative m-rating

At a Carl Elias house party, you can be sure of two things. One, there's going to be enough wildly expensive food and alcohol to make a normal person vomit dollar bills. And two, someone is going to be in the back of an ambulance by the end of the night.

For Sameen, this is the only kind of high school party worth attending.

Elias himself is barely on her radar. There's a kind of unspoken agreement between them- between Elias and the ass-kicking partnership that is herself and John. He'll bail them out of trouble every now and then, and in return they save him from whatever ugly criminal wants his little bald head on a spike that week. For such a cheerful-looking guy, Elias is increasingly unpopular with the bad guys in the area.

Sameen doesn't deal with him much herself, that's John's business. But she's happy to knock a few heads together on his behalf. And of course, she has no problem coming to events like this. What more could a girl want from the weekend than to stuff devilled eggs into her mouth and watch some mouthy Freshman get tossed through a window? Answer: not much.

There's a very comfortable three-man leather sofa right in the centre of all the action, and Sameen isn't there for five minutes before she claims the whole thing for herself. She sits in the middle of it, beer in one hand and a plate loaded with appetisers in the other. Anyone who comes too close is sent packing, if not by her death-stare then by the very detailed promise of what she'll do to them if they stick around.

A couple of hours, two rounds of Beer Pong, and a fistfight later, she's back on that couch while the rest of the still-conscious party-goers round people up to play Spin the Bottle. Sameen's good for random hook-ups, but she has standards that no amount of drinking will change. This far into the night, it's already obvious that none of these people are up to scratch.

Although, if she's being honest, her standards are getting very specific these days.

It's not like she hasn't made out with anyone since Root laid one on her that day in the cafeteria. A month has gone by, and she's had encounters in between. (Most of them were beyond disappointing, but Root's a good kisser, damn it, and she can't help but make comparisons when she's in the moment.)

Root herself is in the picture more and more often. She's started sitting with them at lunch regularly, and Sameen's given up on telling her to take a hike. Short of physically dragging her away from the table, there's not much they can do. Besides, Root brings food enough for the both of them and that's never a bad thing. Sometimes she'll even talk to John like a human being, rather than a stray animal Sameen has taken in for the hell of it.

(It also seems like Root has taken a liking to Finch, much to his exasperation. When she's not flirting heavily with Sameen, she's in his office discussing the finer points of AI technology, or the shortcomings of humanity, or whatever else two computer nerds could possibly find interesting. For the most part, Sameen thinks Finch just wants to know how she's been screwing with his firewall.)

And yet.

Root hasn't kissed her since the first time.

She's made her intentions pretty clear, so the complete lack of grand gestures is starting to get confusing.

Sameen has the feeling Root's waiting for her now, like she's made the first move in this weird little game and it's up to her to decide what happens next. Sameen doesn't do relationships. She doesn't know what the hell Root expects from her, but she's not sure she can deliver. Or if she even wants to.

But sometimes Root's leg will brush against hers under the table, or she'll glance over and Root will smile at her in a way that makes Sameen want to leave immediately. It's starting to freak her out because she doesn't care about most things. She doesn't care about Root, but her skin feels hot where Root's leg is touching hers. She wants to punch that smile off her face, or kiss her again, just because she can.

Sameen's eyes snap up as the couch shifts beneath her. She's been staring at the same spot on the floor for a while without realising it, head full of Root’s distracting behaviour. Sameen doesn't want to consider the connotations of that. The alcohol in her system must be getting to her more than usual.

“Hi there, stranger.”

 _Speak of the Devil..._ , she thinks as Root tilts her head, cheerful grin lighting up her face. She's sitting a lot closer than is strictly necessary on a couch this big, but that's nothing new. Sameen lets her eyes stray for just a moment, taking in the short black skirt Root's wearing in the most subtle way she can before looking away.

“Someone's late to the party.” she says, taking a swig of her beer. There's a loud cheer from the other room, followed by laughter and exaggerated wolf-whistles.

Root looks in the direction of the noise, then turns back to Sameen and shrugs, “I had other plans tonight.”

 _Other plans_. It's just like Root to be as vague as possible about anything concerning her life. Sameen doesn't know if they're the same age, let alone what classes she takes, or even what Root’s real name is. That irritates her a little on a normal day, but in her less than sober state, it's enough to make her scowl and drop the conversation completely.

Root takes her silence as an invitation to keep talking. She puts a hand on the couch between them and leans in a bit closer. “John told me you'd be here. For some reason, he's a lot easier to get a hold of than you are.”

Sameen thinks of her phone, and how she'd dropped it somewhere between Beer Pong round 2 and punching Simmons in the face for talking shit about Carter. She doesn't tell Root this, nor does she ask why Root has John's number in the first place (or hers, actually). Instead, she grunts and brings the bottle back to her mouth. There's another burst of laughter from next door.

“Are you going to be this much fun all night?” Root sighs, looking disappointed. “Maybe I should join in with their game instead.”

Her voice is teasing again, but the thought of her locking lips with someone in that room is enough to make Sameen snap back to attention. Still, she tries to act like it's not the most disgusting image she's ever had in her head.

“So why don't you?” she asks.

Root's eyes seem to flash at the dare, but she smiles again. “I'd hate to leave you all alone in here.”

Belatedly, Sameen realises that they’re the only two in the room, with the exception of an unconscious (or worse) body on the other couch. It's just her and Root, and she's pretty sure Root's intention is to make her focus on that fact.

“Yeah,” Sameen slouches into the seat, like she hasn't just noticed their situation, “you've made it pretty clear how hard it is for you to leave me alone.”

Root smiles a little wider, and Sameen looks at her teeth, trying not to remember how they had felt digging into her bottom lip. She drinks, again, like that will help her focus. It doesn't.

When she lowers the bottle, Root's face is a lot closer than it was before, and they're both leaning against the back of the couch. Root's hand inches towards her thigh, and she watches through narrowed eyes as Root's little finger traces lightly over the seam of her jeans.

“Maybe so.” Root says, “But you made me a promise, and I'm still waiting for you to follow through.”

Sameen can't remember making any kind of promises to this girl that weren’t violent in nature.

As if sensing her confusion, Root tries again. Her voice drops low in what Sameen assumes is a very bad impression of her own. “If you keep following me around like this...”

Now she remembers. Back in the cafeteria, right before Root kissed her. What she'd intended as a very real threat, Root has taken to be an offer. This clears a few things up, actually.

“I think we both know how patient I've been.” Root's fingers have managed to climb her leg without her noticing, and a warm hand now lies flat against her thigh, just above the knee.

Sameen's mouth goes dry for reasons she can't explain. All she knows is that she really wants to give Root what she wants. Sameen can't do feelings, won't do relationships, but this much she can do. Maybe afterwards, Root will finally leave her alone for good, and she can carry on with her life. Maybe her stomach will stop acting like an asshole when this strange girl is around.

Only one way to find out.

The chair squeaks as Sameen leans forward to set her bottle down on the floor, and when she draws back, Root is looking at her curiously. Sameen doesn't waste any more time thinking about it, just lurches forward to kiss her.

It's a clumsy start, and Root makes a little noise of surprise when Sameen wraps an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Up until now, she's always been playing the aggressor; the sudden burst of action seems to catch her off-guard. But the moment passes quickly, and Root kisses her back like there's nothing else she'd rather be doing.

Long fingers flit across her face, her shoulders, and then her biceps. Sameen smirks, pleased, when sharp nails dig into the skin there.

She slips her free hand under Root's knees and lifts both legs up so they're resting over her lap. Root's an inch off sitting on her anyway, and the new angle makes it easier for her to slide a hand up the other girl's thigh. Her skin is smooth and warm under Sameen’s touch. She wonders, hazily, why it’s taken her this long to get here.

Root's tongue starts pressing eagerly at her lips, and she opens her mouth to welcome it. The nails leave her bicep, and long arms wrap loosely around her shoulders, fingers combing through her hair in one lazy motion.

Sameen toys with the hem of Root's skirt before skimming over it to rest a hand firmly on her ass. She feels Root laughing into her mouth, and bites down on her tongue. Hands pull sharply at her ponytail in retaliation.

There's a swell of noise from the other room, and Sameen wonders how much time they have left until someone walks in. Her body feels warm and fuzzy; she's not sure she'd be able to move away before anyone saw them. She's not sure Root would let her.

A hand runs down past her collarbone and stops at her breast, fingers groping roughly through multiple layers. Root breaks the kiss just long enough to grab a handful of Sameen's t-shirt and forces it over her head before pulling her forward by the back of her neck.

The leg closest to Sameen's stomach slides out of her lap and wraps around her, and Root leans away until she hits the sofa cushions, dragging Sameen down with her. Sameen finds herself looking over Root from above, breathing heavily as Root runs black fingernails over her bare stomach.

The skirt Root is wearing has bunched up around her hips. She stares up at Sameen, red lipstick smudged at the edges of her mouth from the kissing; Sameen thinks, with mild irritation, that her own face must look similar.

She leans down to put her weight on one forearm, resting it beside Root's head. The leather sticks to her arm uncomfortably, but she’s barely aware of it when Root’s looking at her like that, all flushed and happy. She slides her other hand under Root's shirt, dragging it up slowly as she goes, and bends her knee to press a jean-clad thigh between Root’s legs.

Root mutters something unintelligible and tries for another kiss, but Sameen turns her face away to start a slow trail of bites down Root's neck. She stops at the junction of her shoulder, mouth closing around the skin and sucking harshly until it darkens. Sameen slips her fingers under the other girl's bra and pushes it up, out of the way. Root shivers beneath her, knees digging into her hips desperately as she grinds against Sameen's thigh.

Satisfied with the angry red mark she's left on Root's neck, she raises her head and, finally, lets Root press their mouths together. Root kisses her like she's trying to make a point, but Sameen's far too drunk and far too distracted to understand. It's slower this time, and a lot closer to the kiss they shared in the cafeteria than the one Sameen instigated earlier. Root's teeth close around her lip, hard enough to draw blood, and then her tongue swipes over the wound.

The sting of it flashes through Sameen's body, right down to the base of her stomach, and she presses her thigh up harder as a reward. She cups her hand around one of Root’s breasts and kneads it slowly, squeezing the nipple so that Root gasps into her mouth.

Her hips get jerked down abruptly when Root's hands start pulling at the belt there, and it’s almost enough to make her lose her balance. She’s pretty sure Root hasn’t had a drop to drink, but apparently impatience is making her uncoordinated tonight.

Sameen laughs and sits up, ignoring the way Root whines at the sudden distance. She bats Root’s fingers out of the way and unfastens the belt herself, and then the button. Root pushes herself up by the elbows to watch, so Sameen takes her time on the zipper, throwing a wicked smile down at Root because she knows it's driving her crazy.

It's at this point that the door clicks open and someone else stumbles into the room.

 _Of all the people_ , Sameen grimaces as she stares Lionel Fusco down over the back of the couch. From where he's standing, he most likely can't see below her shoulders and thus, has no idea that Root is there with her. Or that both of them are half-naked.

Sameen manages to nod at Lionel and look, she thinks, somewhat casual. “What, did they kick you out for being such a bad kisser?”

Lionel squints a few times, as if it's taking him a while to figure out who she is. That's probably a good sign. Root smirks at her, having figured out what’s happening, and Sameen has a bad feeling she's not the least bit concerned about getting caught.

“Oh, it's just you.” Lionel says, finally, “And no, actually, I just came to use the bathroom. Which is... uh...”

He looks around, confused. Maybe, in his drunken state, he thought this room was it.

“That way. Down the hall.” Sameen tells him, pointing at a door to his right. She maintains her composed expression, even when Root's index finger starts trailing intimately up the inside of her thigh. Lionel looks thoughtful for a minute, and Sameen barely refrains from snapping at him. Her patience isn’t at its best when there’s a hand groping her mischievously from below.

As if reaching some important conclusion to his internal debate, Lionel finally nods and moves to follow her directions.

The door he needs isn't far from the couch, and if at any point Lionel decides to turn around, he'll have a very clear view of Sameen's shirtless back. Not to mention the long pair of legs on either side of her belonging to Root. Lionel told her once that their “good friend” (not even close), who he'd generously nicknamed Cocoa Puffs, freaks him out on all levels. Getting an eyeful of her wrapped around Sameen probably isn't going to make him feel better.

Fortunately, he's a mission-oriented kind of guy, and he doesn't so much as glance back before leaving the room.

The minute he's out of sight, Root drops her hand and grins up at her. Sameen rolls her eyes as the door slams shut, teeth gritted at Root's teasing.

“You're a real piece of work, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Root’s tongue pokes out of her mouth at the corner, and she hooks her finger under Sameen’s bra to pull her close. Apparently their run-in with Lionel hasn’t put a damper on her mood, but Sameen can’t say the same. She sighs and reaches for her shirt, letting Root kiss her for a few seconds more before sitting back on her haunches to put it on.

“You’re leaving?” Root’s voice is an octave higher than usual, and they both notice. Her lips slide down into an exaggerated pout, like Sameen won’t figure out she’s just given herself away a little more than she intended.

“ _We_ are. I’m over the limit, so you’re driving me home.”

Much as she hates to let someone else take the wheel in her place, she knows her own limitations. There’s no way she’s risking her precious car on a night like this, even if that means giving Root access to her home address. Chances are the girl has already fished that information out of the school system anyway (along with her phone number, apparently).

“And then?” Root presses, adjusting her bra where Sameen’s hand had pushed it aside not five minutes ago. Her face is still noticeably red from their activities, and the mark Sameen left on her shoulder is just visible under the collar of her shirt. This, along with the smeared remains of her lipstick, paints a picture Sameen won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

“And then…” She rises from the couch, fastening her pants back up as she goes. “We’ll see what happens next.”

Root’s face lights up like a Christmas tree, and Sameen smirks back despite herself. Whatever has just happened between them, it clearly isn’t going to be the last time.

And, she thinks, kicking the half-empty beer bottle over on her way out, maybe she wouldn’t mind if Root decided to stick around for a while.


End file.
